


Winter Season Music Festival

by SilverInk



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bright is a symphony director, Gen, Professional musicians au, Thursday is a choir conductor, and morse is his assistant, jakes is a drama queen soloist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The professional music au nobody asked for. I was surprised no one else had done this before so I decided to write it myself!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Oxford Choral Society

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a multiple-chapter fic, so I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll try to write a new chapter every week or so!! 
> 
> Thank you to Kira for proofreading and helping me with some of the details of the story!!! You're the best <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!!

Today was the Oxford Choral Society's first practice of the winter season, and Endeavour Morse, the assistant director, had just picked up thirty copies of sheet music for all the songs they would be singing. He was probably keeping the copiers in business all by himself, he thought as he carried the sheet music out to his car, in a giant cardboard box. Fred Thursday, the official director of the choir, had him go there at least once a month. He checked his watch—5:30. Morse still had an hour and a half to run some errands of his own and have dinner before he had to be at St Joan of Arc Church for practice. 

He did some quick shopping, then stopped by Oxford's newest Indian restaurant, which his friend Jim recommended very highly, for some curry. While he was waiting he opened his phone to check the choir's email.

On the slightly cracked screen, Morse saw that they had a message from the Oxfordshire County Symphony. Fred's personal email was CC'd. It was about the Winter Season Music Festival, which was coming up in a few months, and the director (a Mr Bright, said the signature at the end) was requesting that they do a few songs together! There was a list of pieces they could do at the bottom: _Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring_ , which they were already doing; the hallelujah chorus from Handel's _Messiah_ ; as well as several more traditional Christmas songs, like _The Coventry Carol_ and _Adeste Fideles_. It had been ages since they'd done something like that; Morse was suddenly ridiculously excited, and he couldn't wait to talk to Fred about it.

______He ate the curry, and drove to St Joan of Arc Church. Only when he was in the parking lot did he realize he was still ten minutes early. Oh well, it would give him extra time to get things set up._ _ _ _ _ _

______Fred wasn't there yet—the door was still locked—so Morse let himself in, the box of sheet music under his arm. In the practice room, he put sheet music on each of the chairs and wrote a warmup exercise on the whiteboard. Then he went over to the piano. Though worn and slightly battered from many years of use, it still had a rich, full sound. Morse liked to think it sounded so beautiful because it was old, that it only became better with age, like fine wine._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sitting on the piano bench, he started to play one of the songs from last year. The chords came easily to him, and soon he found himself singing along with the melody, becoming so focused on the music that he didn't hear the door open. In fact, he only noticed there was anyone else there when they pulled out one of the chairs, which screeched loudly on the tile floor. Jumping a little, he turned around and saw two women at the back of the room; a petite woman with blonde hair pulled into a bun, and a much taller woman, taller than Morse, with dark skin and very short, curly hair. The blonde woman had her hand on the back of a chair and was looking sheepish._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm sorry!" she said. "Didn't mean to startle you!"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"It's alright," said Morse, laughing a little._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm here for the Oxford Choral Society? I was told practice would be here," said the woman, looking back at her friend._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yes it should be starting in about five or six minutes actually. I'm Morse, the assistant director," he added._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh, nice to meet you Mr Morse!" She held out her hand. "I'm Shirley Trewlove. This is my girlfriend, Gillian Rose."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Nice to meet you," said Gillian, smiling and giving his hand a firm shake. She looked a bit intimidating, but she seemed like a perfectly nice person, from what Morse could tell._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You too."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Gillian turned around to Shirley. "So I'll pick you up in about two hours, yeah?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yeah, see you then dear." Morse turned and pretended to be very interested in fixing something on the whiteboard to give them some privacy. He heard the door open, then footsteps he knew belonged to Fred._ _ _ _ _ _

______"See you then," said Gillian. They kissed, and then Morse heard Gillian's boots tapping on the tile as she left. Fred came in just as she was leaving. "Hello, miss. Alright, Morse?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______***_ _ _ _ _ _

______Forty minutes later, Morse was ridiculously frustrated with Peter Jakes, who was trying once again to get Fred to give him the only solo opportunity in their repertoire, even though it was better suited to Jim Strange's bass range. Peter really was one of the best singers they had, and he knew it, so he took every opportunity to show off._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You know we can't always give _you_ all the solos, Peter," said Morse irritably.___ _ __

________"This is the only solo there is though! Why waste the opportunity?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Max, would you play that section for us again?" asked Fred, cutting off their argument. Max Debryn, the pianist, who had been watching with amusement, pushed up his owl-like glasses and blinked theatrically. "Of course."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jim eventually got the solo part, which upset Peter quite a bit. The rest of the rehearsal went on normally. _Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring_ caused the altos no end of grief with all the high notes, and several comments were made about drinking tea with honey and lemon to help their voices recover. They could be such drama queens, thought Morse, mentally shaking his head.___ _ _ _ __

__________After rehearsal, everyone left fairly quickly, and soon it was just Morse and Fred. Morse sighed. He had almost forgotten about the email from the symphony, but now it popped back into his mind, along with the excitement._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"We got an email this afternoon," said Morse, trying not to sound _too_ excited, "from the Oxfordshire County Symphony. They'd like us to do some songs with them for the Winter Season Music Festival."___ _ _ _ _ _ __

____________"Mm," hummed Fred distractedly, looking through some notes. He clearly wasn't giving Morse his full attention._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He cleared his throat loudly and Fred looked up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Sorry, come again Morse?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I said," said Morse with an amused grin, "the Oxfordshire County Symphony wants to do some songs with us for the music festival."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Oh yes. I didn't get much of a chance to read that. Did they say which songs?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Well there was _Coventry Carol_ , the hallelujah chorus from Handel's _Messiah_... Several others, I don't remember all of them."_____ _ _ _ ____

________________"I was thinking of putting you in charge of this," he said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________" _What?_ " asked Morse in surprise, his voice squeaking embarrassingly. He cleared his throat. "I mean, what, sir?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __

________________"Yes, Morse, I think you should conduct for this. If you want to that is. You've been my assistant long enough that you know what you're doing. And you've said you'd like to conduct a choir on your own soon, so this'll be a good trial run."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"But—am I ready?" he asked when he'd found his voice again. "I don't want to mess this up."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"You won't. I know you'd do just fine." Fred smiled and put a hand on Morse's shoulder before putting his hat and coat on. "Cheerio, then. Good night, Morse."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"Good night, Fred. And thank you," Morse said, excitement returning. "I'll think about it." But he was already quite sure what his answer would be..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Endeavour Morse and the Horrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Rehearsal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all, basically. The first mass rehearsal with the symphony doesn't go well for Morse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, this took way longer than planned, but school has just been wiping the floor with me and I've had much less time to write than I thought I would. Anyway, the chapter is finally done, so here you go! Proofread by Kira, thank you dear!!

A few days later, Morse went to the copiers yet again to get more music for the concert. They were going to have a rehearsal with the Oxfordshire County Symphony in a few days, and Morse wanted to give the singers some time to look over the music and learn their parts before then. They didn't do much actual rehearsal of the songs though, because Morse didn't know how Mr Bright would want to do things. He didn't even know which songs he'd be conducting and which ones Mr Bright would be conducting yet, and that was giving him some stress.

"Pub, matey?" asked Jim that evening. "You look like you could do with it."

"Oh that sounds fantastic," said Morse with a histrionic sigh. He grabbed his big winter coat and walked with Jim to their usual pub a few blocks away. Jim bought the first round, and they sat down in a booth. 

“You’ll do fine, matey. You know what your doing. And how bad can this Bright bloke be, anyway? He can't be as hard to impress as people say he is. I'm sure he'll be just fine."

Morse nodded. "You're right, you're right. I shouldn't worry so much about it." 

“Once he hears how good you are, you’ll be as thick as thieves in no time.” That made Morse grin, and he clinked his glass with Jim’s and they drank to it.

***

The mass rehearsal came up much too quickly for Morse. He hadn’t had much time to prepare mentally, and he was still anxious to make a good impression on Mr Bright, and he was slightly scared by the time he got to the theatre for rehearsal. He was five minutes early, but there were already quite a few other cars there, including Fred's, and a beautiful, spotlessly clean car with a license plate that read "SYMFNY". Most likely Bright, thought Morse, trying and failing to contain a laugh.

Almost the whole symphony was in the concert hall, tuning, and Morse began to wonder if he'd gotten the time wrong. Was he late or was everyone else just that much more timely? He'd double and triple checked the time before leaving; the symphony members were probably just a bit obsessive.

"Morse!" Fred beckoned him toward the stage, while Bright called the violins out on their apparently horrific tuning. Morse caught something along the lines of “My great granny could do better, God rest her soul!"

"This is my assistant, Morse, sir," said Fred. Bright turned around and Morse belatedly noticed that he was wearing the full formal attire of the symphony, including the coat and ridiculous hat. He tried to stifle a laugh, and it came out more like a cough. Thursday gave him a look of disapproval, not fooled at all, and Morse somehow managed to pull himself together. 

"Nice to meet you, Mr Bright," he said with a perfectly straight face, shaking the man's hand.

"Yes, very nice to meet you, Morse.” Bright gave him a quick once-over, very obviously frowning when he saw Morse’s wrinkled, un-ironed shirt. “Mr Thursday tells me you will be conducting for this instead of him, is that right?” 

"Yes." Morse felt his face grow hot at the condescending tone of his voice.

"You should make it a point to arrive on time then, what?” Morse was beginning to like this Mr Bright less and less.

"I was five minutes early, sir—" Morse started, even more embarrassed and uncomfortable now.

"Five minutes early is still too late, young man! I suggest you tell your singers to be more timely next time, too. We have no time for slackers!" Bright turned sharply on his heel, back to the symphony and the out-of-tune violins. Morse sighed and ran his hands over his face. This was going to be hard.

***

"Morse!" Mr Bright shouted half an hour later, as Morse was trying to run the ensemble through _Adeste Fideles_ , which would be very easy if Bright wouldn't interrupt him. Bright had made sure to let Morse only conduct the easy songs, even though he knew Morse had experience, and that annoyed Morse to no end. He wanted to challenge himself, try new things, not do things he already knew how to do.

“Yes, sir?”

"You're doing it all wrong! The instrumental bridge is _after_ the first verse!” he said, in a tone that suggested he thought Morse was a complete idiot, calling Morse out for not starting right at the beginning of the song. Morse sighed internally. Even his working techniques were being criticized.

“The first verse is where the tenors and basses sing in unison, if you’ll remember,” he added when Morse didn’t say anything. Morse bristled inwardly, but kept his cool as he answered.

“I know, sir. The tenors and basses have that part memorized, so I thought starting with the instrumental bridge would more useful.” When Bright didn’t speak, Morse glanced over his shoulder at him, and he didn't look happy at all. “I mean—“ he swallowed, “just my personal opinion.”

“I won’t have any of your cheek, thank you very much. But whatever you want to do. _You’re in charge_ , after all,” he said icily, then turned away. Morse blinked in surprise, very confused. Maybe Bright was just having a bad day. Morse just hoped he wasn't like this all the time. Unfortunately, the sympathetic looks he got from about half the symphony suggested Bright was always like this.

“Right, I suppose we’ll start from the beginning then,” he said, still quite puzzled.

***

At the pub that evening, Morse saw Shirley and Gillian sharing a booth a little ways from his table. Shirley beckoned him over with a smile and said, “Rough night? That symphony director gave you a right dressing down!”

Morse groaned in frustration. “He was awful. I’m supposed to actually conduct, not sit there while he conducts! And he’s doing all the good songs himself.” Morse was aware he sounded very whiny, but he didn’t really care. 

“What you need is another drink,” said Gillian, patting his arm sympathetically. “I’ll get the next round in. Same again?”

Morse nodded. “Thank you.”

"If it makes you feel any better," said Shirley, "he was just as hard on the rest of us. We had to go through one section about ten times because we weren't getting the pitch exactly right, apparently.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” said Morse, wincing a little.

“Yeah it wasn’t fun." She made a face. "I’m hoping he was just having a bad day, but all the symphony players seemed pretty used to it.”

“Maybe he’ll have a lot of really good days while we’re doing rehearsals? You never know, it could happen!” he added when Shirley laughed.

Morse suddenly felt much better, and he really enjoyed the validation of knowing other people were as annoyed with Bright as he was. Gillian came back with pints for the three of them and took a seat next to Shirley, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hopefully there will at least be less shouting in the next few rehearsals,” said Shirley, sipping her drink.

“I certainly hope so,” said Morse, sighing but smiling back.

They sat at their booth chatting and drinking until late into the night, and Morse felt much better after being able to vent his frustrations. He eventually realised how tired he was, and went home and almost immediately changed into a pair of old flannel pajamas and fell asleep on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> https://youtu.be/9ayLUAWmatk
> 
> Here's a link for the song they were singing!! (As an alto I can say this would be pretty hard to sing XD)


End file.
